


A Nest Of Blades And Daggers

by Sublimey



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Antivan Crows, Antivan Elves, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Inquisitor, Kidquisitor, Original Character(s), Parent-Child Relationship, Velasco is everyone's child, bird puns everywhere, warning: Author attempts italian poorly, with real family as a surprising bonus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-08-04 17:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16351139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sublimey/pseuds/Sublimey
Summary: The Herald of Andraste is found and a new inquisitor is made. The only problem? She’s ten  years old and the Antivan Crows won’t pay child support.





	1. Chapter One - Little Crow

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on chapters for this fic for like, months now, please take them before I forget about them. and tell me what you think so I'm inspired to write more!

Cassandra hovered by the door, hesitant to move it. By her side Leliana watched her expression, her eyes sharp and glinting under her hood. The two women were at a standstill, one foot in the interrogation room and one foot out. 

 

“We need  _ answers _ , Cassandra,” the Divine’s right spoke, her gloved hand coming to rest on the seeker’s arm. “The conclave—” 

 

“You think I don’t know? That I am not  _ aware _ ?” Cassandra bit out, insulted that Leliana thought she needed a reminder. She had enough of that from the glowing hole in the sky,  _ thank you _ . She dragged a hand over her face and took a breath. “But the prisoner—” 

 

“If you may,” Leliana said, stepping closer to the door and gesturing for Cassandra to move out of the way. “I can handle them if you wish to stay your hand. These things can be delicate.” 

 

“Delicate…” Cassandra repeated, watching her open the door. The seeker followed suit, taking her first full steps into the dark and cavernous cell.

 

The prisoner had their head hung low, away from their guards, and Leliana looked to her for a final confirmation to start. Cassandra pursed her lips and motioned for her to begin. They still needed answers, after all. 

 

Even though their prisoner was a child. 

 

“You're awake, no need to pretend anymore,” Leliana said, her voice light and melodious, while her eyes stayed sharp. “The conclave has been destroyed, with not a single survivor…” 

 

The prisoner didn't move a muscle, her wrists bound in front of her with rope thicker than her small fingers. None of their metal cuffs had fit. 

 

Cassandra stood in the shadows, frustration mounting as the girl stayed silent, yet she held back. This was not a battle she felt she could win through brute strength alone. This was…. delicate. They still didn't know if the girl was a victim or the cause of the explosion, and the only reason they had tied her up was for fear of the mark on her hand growing and turning her into a demon. They were completely out of their comfort zone dealing with this. Nobody had an explanation for the joke in the sky, nor did they have an answer for the mark. 

 

Then, on queue with a deep, thunderous crackling in the sky, the mark on the prisoner’s hand lit up with a sickly glow, and the girl fell forward in agony. Cassandra took a step forward, as did her guards posted in the room, but Leliana caught her before the child could fall on her face, both hands on her shoulders. 

 

“Tell me what you know.” Leliana's voice was commanding, if gentle, and left no room for misunderstanding. They were not here for fun and games. The sister tucked a strand of black hair against the child's face, and behind her elven ear. Something then caused the spymaster to still, and Cassandra’s interest was piqued. What had she seen? “I suppose not... Are you not willing to tell us anything then, little crow? You know as well as I do that information can take and save lives.” 

 

“She's an  _ assassin? _ ” Cassandra said unbelievably, striding over so she could see the child's face for herself. There, on the lower left hand side of her face, was the tell-tale mark of an Antivan assassin. Her feathers; dark red crescent tattoos that ran from her cheekbone to her jaw. She wasn't just some girl, she was a  _ killer _ for hire. 

 

Cassandra had a sinking feeling in her chest. Outside, the breach crackled, and the mark on their prisoner’s hand glowed with it. Leliana caught her shoulders again as she fell forward, her bound hands tensing. 

 

“Get your hands  _ off _ me.” Her voice was was high and clear, and she glared at the sister holding her through a curtain of her dark brown hair. “Don't make me ask a second time.” 

 

“So she talks!” Leliana smiled at the girl, not at all worried about her empty threats. “How wonderful. If you can speak, then surely you can give us the answers that we need, no?” 

 

“No.” The crow shifted her head away, so she couldn't look at either of them. Her fingers fidgeted in her bindings. “I have nothing to say to you.” 

 

She had an Antivan accent as she spoke, though Cassandra could tell with some certainty that she spoke Ferelden just as easily as her native language. She watched as Leliana smiled and refused to let go of her hold on the child’s shoulders. If anything, her grip tightened. 

 

“Tell us what you know,” she warned, her voice dropping several pitches. 

 

Cassandra’s men shifted uncomfortably in the corner of the room, and the seeker herself tensed and waited for a sign in case things got out of hand. She had to remind herself: this was not just a child they were dealing with. This was an assassin, found at the conclave, where the divine and all the highest clergy had been slain—where their only chance at peace between the Templars and mages had been snuffed out. This crow could have the answers they needed— they couldn't afford to play nice. 

 

“I didn't do it,” the girl said finally, lip curling as Leliana’s fingers dig into her shoulders. She winced, and spat, “I don't even remember being at the conclave!” 

 

“And interesting story to spin,” the spymaster said, leaning back to finally give the girl some space. She seemed grateful, if annoyed that they didn't believe her, that she wasn't being manhandled at the moment. Cassandra relaxed. “Tell me, why should we believe anything  _ an assassin  _ has to say? For all we know, you could have been sent to kill the divine.” 

 

“If that was the case, then someone beat me to it, no?” She bit out a patronizing smile. “Because I was nowhere  _ near  _ her when happened. I was…. I…” 

 

“Yes?” Cassandra took a step closer and watched the elf’s face twist as she tried to recall her last memories. This could be the key to the disaster in the sky. “What is it?” 

 

“I… I don't remember…” her confusion seemed genuine as she stared down at her hands. 

 

Leliana sighed and shook her head, disappointed as she knelt in front of their prisoner. “How incredibly convenient.” 

 

“I'm telling the truth!” Her eyes were blazing, and she struggled against her restraints. 

 

“And how novel that is, little spy. Are the crows giving away their feathers now? Have they set the bar so low they’re accepting truth-tellers and children into their ranks?” 

 

The child’s expression was livid, and Cassandra hesitated, not sure if she should intervene or not. “You take that back!” 

 

“Should I?” Lilianna smiled down at her and tucked the rest of her dark hair behind her ears in a very motherly fashion. It only seemed to make things worse. “Only if you say please.” 

 

In a quick moment, faster than Cassandra or her guards could react, the prisoner slipped her bindings and struck, slapping Leliana across the face. “ _ Bitch! _ ” 

 

Leliana’s head turned and she blinked, still crouched on the floor as the child scrambled backwards and into the farthest corner of the room. As Cassandra's men turned on her, she held up her glowing hand threateningly. 

 

“Stay back! Don't make me say it again!” 

 

“Delicate,” Cassandra murmured as she helped Leliana to her feet. “This is what you wanted?” 

 

“Shut up,” the sister grunted. The two of them stood in waiting as the tiny crow held her ground against fully armoured men, her posture threatening despite the fact that they were backing her into a wall. Leliana rubbed the side of her face where a tiny red hand print remained. She gestured to the prisoner. “She’s all yours, seeker.” 

 

“How kind of you…” Cassandra moved towards her soldiers, penning the girl in as best they could without being stuck down by the mysterious magic sewn into her palm. She took a steadying breath and, without drawing her sword, approached the frightened child. “What’s your name?” 

 

“ _ Che palle! _ ” She hissed a series of curses towards her in Antivan, before slipping back Into the language Cassandra could actually understand. “—as if i’d tell such a thing to a Ferelden dog!” 

 

“I am Nevarren,” Cassandra said impatiently, one eyebrow raised. The child’s glowing hand lowered just a tad. She tried again. “My name is Cassandra Pentaghast, I am head seeker for the chantry and I  _ was  _ the divine’s left hand. You know sister Leliana, behind me…” 

 

She waved, and her smile grew sharper when the crow sneered at her. 

 

“You know our names. I say we trade information—answer our question and you may ask your own.” Cassandra motioned for her men to stand down. They did, reluctantly. “Does that seem fair?” 

 

The girl hesitated for a moment, before dropping her hand. She stewed over her answer, frustrated perhaps by the fact that she had no other choice. “Call me Velasco.” 

 

“Great,” Leliana muttered, shaking her head. Velasco was an incredibly common name given to assassins—its meaning literally translated from Antivan to mean _ crow _ . It was like naming oneself  _ anonymous _ , or ser; it was a nothing name. Cassandra wondered if the name was given to Velasco by someone else, or she chose it herself. 

 

“My turn for questioning,” the elf demanded, jutting her chin out as she stared down the adults in the room. Her hands tucked firmly at her side, and hardly wavered as the mark crackled dangerously. She had been embellishing her painful reactions from before, Cassandra noted, though the sheen of sweat on Velasco’s brow was a good way to tell that she was in fact still suffering. She was a good little actor. “Where did you take my things?”

 

“You mean your weapons?” Cassandra asked, and when Velasco stared at her blankly, because that wasn't an answer, the seeker conceded. “Held in a safe place where you are not to have them. Explain the mark.” 

 

“I can't.” 

 

“Then explain what happened at the conclave.” 

 

“I  _ can't.”  _

 

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. “Is there anything you  _ can  _ explain?”

 

Velasco stood her ground and clenched her fists. “Ask better questions! I already told you I can't remember, and I was being  _ honest.”  _ She shot a glare at Leliana. 

 

The seeker looked between the two of them, before she sighed to herself. “What do you last remember, then?” 

 

“I…” her face went blank for a second, her eyes distant. She licked her lips and unclenched her hands. “Um…” 

 

“Yes..?” Lelianna held her breath. 

 

“There were… really big, ugly spiders,” she said, her expression pinched. “They were chasing me.” 

 

“...spiders?” Cassandra repeated, not quite sure she believed the story herself. “Why?” 

 

“I  _ don't know _ ,” Velasco said impatiently. “Why am I supposed to be the one holding all the answers? I just woke up here after some woman grabbed me.” 

 

“There was a woman?” Leliana pressed, interest piqued. “What was she like? Did she say anything? What else did she do?” 

 

“I don't know!” Her hand with the mark was up again, as if to put distance between her and all the suspicion around her. Any more questions and Cassandra was afraid they'd push her to tears—even though the young assassin seemed closer to righteous anger than confused sobbing. “She reached out to me. I don't even know what's going  _ on.”  _

 

“Perhaps it would be best to show you…” 

 

Cassandra moved for her men to open the door outside. At the sudden change in light and blast of cold air, Velasco forgot her fighting stance and took a few tentative steps forward. 

 

“No running off.” The seeker motioned for her men to shadow behind them as she brought Velasco outside. Leliana slipped out the door they came into, throwing a few words over her should about keeping the rest of the survivors informed before she disappeared. 

 

The snow crunched under their feet as they walked outside. Velasco’s footsteps were quiet, careful, as she followed Cassandra. The glow of the beach caught her eyes, and the antivan swore again under her breath as the mark began to hiss and pop, green light pouring from her hand. She fell to the snow a moment later, hallow groan wrenched from her lips. Cassandra helped her up. 

 

“This thing, this mark—it's killing you, with every moment the breach grows larger. Do you understand?” 

 

Velasco shakily nodded, holding her arm close to her chest like a broken wing. She looked angry—Cassandra didn't know what she expected. Tears, perhaps. She wondered what the girl's life must be like for her to have the face of a soldier already, for as young as she was. 

 

The seeker gave her a moment to compose herself. “How old are you?” 

 

“A question for a question?” Cassandra nodded, and she said: “Ten… maybe.” 

 

One of the soldiers behind them swore, and Cassandra ignored him. “You don't know for sure?” 

 

“We didn't celebrate birthdays,” was all she replied, and the underlying statement of ‘ _ when I was with the crows’ _ remained unsaid. She looked up at Cassandra, her head just barely as coming up to her elbows. “Do you still think I did it? The hole in the sky?” 

 

“I… wasn't sure to begin with.” 

 

Cassandra glanced up at the breach for good measure. There were so many unanswered questions still, and none of them answered now that the prisoner—The child— was awake. She knew leliana still suspected her, as did quite a few of the survivors, but they were split. Most weren't willing to suspect a child created such chaos and suffering. The fact that she was an  _ assassin  _ was a point in favour of the people calling her a killer. From the marks on her face, the tattoos were proof that she already was one. 

 

Velasco looked down at her palm, so small and fragile, glowing under the light of her mark. Cassandra wondered how anyone could use such hands like that and force them to take a life. “What can I do to get rid of it?” 

 

“We’re not sure,” the seeker confessed, watching as Velasco’s tiny eyebrows drew together. She had to remind herself to focus on the task at hand, and cleared her throats and looked away. “But there is someone who looked over you who might have answers. There may be a way to close the breach and save you from the mark before it kills you.” 

 

“Then why are we doing waiting around?” Velasco gaped at her and took several large steps forward, so that her guards startled and started following after her. Cassandra just stared. “There’s a hole in the sky!!” 

 

The seeker had nothing to argue about that. They set of towards the conclave. 

 


	2. Baby Bird's Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velasco goes on a field trip with her new parental guardians and it gets interrupted with murder and horror-terrors from the sky.

 

“I don't like how they stared at me when we left,” Velasco stated, eyes straight ahead of them as they made their way through the forest. The breach was in clear sight, hanging above them all as they scouted for demons. 

 

“They don't know what to think of you,” Cassandra answered, leading the pack. “No one has ever simply  _ fallen _ out of the breach before. After the conclave, some would say your entire existence is a maker-given gift.” 

 

“ _ Some _ would be wrong.” Velasco kicked a pile of snow with her boot. 

 

Their party was large; with four of Cassandra's soldiers, decked out in Templar armor with their swords drawn. Cassandra and the prisoner—Velasco, took a middle position sandwiched between them, for optimal safety. Between the adults, they had silently come to the same conclusion that a  _ child  _ should not be up in the mountains where hey could meet their untimely death. Cassandra didn't have a good feeling about it. If the world wasn't falling apart and demons weren't falling upon the world, she would have left the child locked up and safe until they could figure something out. As it was, the breach was growing, and fast. 

 

“Aaarrrrgh!” Velasco fell onto her knees as the breach crackled, and her whole arm engulfed in a greenish light that popped with a deadly power. She panted, holding her hand out to the snow as Cassandra's men gave them a wide berth. She hissed as Cassandra tried to help her back to her feet. “I can  _ do it _ , I can walk.” 

 

“We won't make it in time if this keeps happening, the breach is only growing stronger.” Cassandra purses her lips and, turning to one of her soldiers, motioned for him to step forward. “If you carry her, we may have a better shot at making it up the mountain.” 

 

“Carry me?!” Velasco squawked as the soldier nodded and sheathed his sword. She looked between him and the seeker, her face turning an angry red. “I can handle it! I'm not some—some weak… thing!” 

 

“Perhaps.” Cassandra nodded at her soldier and he knelt down and gestured for her climb into his arms. “But this way will be faster.” 

 

Velasco looked like she wanted to argue, but with another flash of light from the breach, she squared her shoulders and shut her mouth. She looked at the soldier, who was watching her expectantly. “Let me climb onto your back then. You're not carrying me  _ bridal style. _ ” 

 

“Right, then.” The soldier turned and let her climb up onto his back. It wasn't a comfortable ride at all, but she hooked her arms around his neck and he shouldered her weight like it was nothing at all. He discarded his helmet so it wouldn't be uncomfortable, tossing it into the snow beside them, and looked back at her. “You alright there?” 

 

“Just fine,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes. The soldier laughed, and it was just enough to lighten the mood between them all despite their circumstances. Velasco muttered a string of Antivan under her breath, more likely than not, something very insulting. “Go, before I die of old age or something.” 

 

“We have some time yet before that happens,” the soldier murmured, and she kicked him in the side. The other soldiers chucked. 

 

Cassandra led them through the forest, taking point as they made their way up the mountain. It was worse than they had hoped—demons were falling from the sky at an unprecedented rate. She cut through the first of many as she ordered her men to hold back and guard the girl, but two of the four jumped in at the end before she could be overwhelmed. She wiped liquid demon off her blade as the creatures dissipated at their feet, and shot an eye at the elf perched on her soldiers shoulder, looking like she wanted to help. 

 

“ _ You _ are to stay back and refrain from fighting. We don't know what we're dealing with yet.” 

 

“But I can  _ fight _ ,” she urged, banging her hands on her guardians pauldrons. He let out an exasperated sigh. “Tell her I can fight, Felix!” 

 

“Excuse me?” Cassandra raised an eyebrow. She didn't know anyone by that name. 

 

“That would be me, lady seeker.” The knight carrying Velasco nodded his head. He was young, one of the new recruits perhaps? She couldn't quite place him. “We were speaking while you fought. She said she's a rather good marksman.” 

 

It took a second, but dull recognition hit her after she heard his voice. He had been stationed in the chantry when the conclave exploded—she knew his brother better than she did him. “Of course, my apologies. And I don't care what her abilities are, she's not fighting.” 

 

“But—!” Cassandra cut her off with a warning look. She shot the seeker a glare, but didn't argue with her. 

 

They pressed on—demons crept out of the forest when they heard their party approach, but the path was more or less clear. It was when the breach crackled and spit out a solid form of writhing demons at them as they crossed a bridge that their lucked turned. The bridge crumbled. 

 

Velasco fell from Felix’s shoulders with a sickening crack sounding somewhere near her, and she tumbled onto the ice. 

 

The mark pulsed up her arm and she held it close as she got her bearings again, and when she looked up Cassandra was fending off a horde of demons with just her sword. She couldn't see the seeker’s shield as she looked around, but— 

 

She did see Felix, lying beside her. His head resting on the ice in a puddle of his own blood. 

 

Velasco stared at him for a moment, unblinking, before the sound of the battle came back to her. Cassandra grunted as two demons threw themselves at her, held off only by the swing of her sword. Two of her guards were penned down by a rage demon, and the third was wobbling unsteadily on the ice towards a wraith shooting spells at them. 

 

Nobody noticed the lesser demon creep up towards Velasco, and at first neither did she, too preoccupied in checking for a pulse on her guard. It wasn't looking good for him—his eyes were half open and his face had drained of color, but with the faint thrumming of a heartbeat, she withdrew her hand from his neck and looked to the others for help. 

 

_ That's  _ when the demon struck, lunging at the two of them from across the ice. Velasco had enough time to wrench herself out of the grasp of its claws, and the demon struck Felix’s thick armor with a harmless clank. 

 

“Seeker?” She called, but already knew Cassandra was busy. The other three guards were preoccupied as well, and she grimaced to herself. “Fine then.” 

 

The demon lurched to her right, and Velasco dove low, rolling to its left hand side and coming up behind it. She dove towards the ice where Felix lay, and hastily went towards his belt where his sword was strapped in.

 

As the demon reared up to strike her again, Cassandra caught a glimpse of what was going on, and roared, slicing one of her foes in half before stunning a second. She made it three steps before she saw Velasco circle around the demon harassing her with a belt in her hands, quickly looping it around the demons neck and  _ pulling _ . 

 

The crow planted her foot on the creatures back and yanked, choking it until it weakened, grasping at its throat with icy tipped claws. It stumbled on the ice with her on its back, desperately trying to buck the elf off of it until finally it crashed to the ground with a wet thump. 

 

Velasco held the belt tighter and ground her foot into its heard until its neck popped and its struggling ceased. 

 

By the time the battle was over, the demons had been dealt with, the soldiers had gone to check on their fallen comrade, Cassandra stared at their youngest member. 

 

“I suppose I already know where you learned to fight like that.” The seeker watched the young assassin shrug her shoulders. She didn't seem at all apologetic about defying her orders, and even less upset having to fight a demon or the threat of death hanging over her shoulders. Cassandra watched her warily. “Are you alright?” 

 

“Fine.” Velasco turned her head to watch as two soldiers gently moved Felix’s body off the ice and onto the snow. She blinked her eyes as they laid his hands on his chest, and turned her head away. “I can handle myself, let me fight.” 

 

Cassandra looked between her and the dead soldier. She didn't have time to think about the girl’s numbness and lack of reaction towards a person dying, but it still bothered her. As she unhooked a dagger from her belt and handed it to the crow, she made a mental note to give her condolences towards Felix’s brother if they all made it out alive. 

 

Velasco palmed the dagger, turning it over in her hands until she had a good idea of its weight. She favoured the hand without the mark and swung it, once, before nodding. “I prefer using a bow, personally.” 

 

It made sense; a child assassin could put distance between her and her target without ever getting in true danger. Cassandra tried not to stew on the thought as they made their way up the mountain, fighting groups of demons and wraiths alike. Velasco was quick on her feet and calculative-she picked out the easiest places to plunge her dagger, and didn't waste time watching the demons dissipate before her as she moved into the next target. The further ground they made the more Cassandra found herself watching the elf, more disturbed than in awe of her abilities if she was being honest with herself. 

 

They made it past several ruined cabins up a slope—there, they could hear the sound of fighting and the screams of demons. Cassandra, reunited with her shield, raised her it and instructed Velasco and her soldiers to hold their ground as they approached. 

 

At the sight of arrows raining down on demons and ahead alike, Cassandra jolted and charged forward, slamming herself into a nearby demon before it could make a mark. Her shield stood true, and her sword cut into the side of her enemy and it melted into the snow. 

 

“Not a moment too soon, seeker,” said a stout dwarf, adding another bolt onto his crossbow. He spared a glance at her company and stepped out the way as a shade threw a spell at him before returning fire. “Don't tell me—is that who I think it is?”

 

“Yes,” Cassandra grunted, shoving a demon to the snow with her full weight. She glanced at Velasco as she and her guards dispatched of a shade. “you'd be correct.” 

 

“ _ Shit _ .” Varric grimaced and moved towards a group of demons harassing the rest of their company. “I'm not the shortest one here and I can't even be happy about it.” 

 

“Why are you huddling around me for?” Velasco turned to look at the three guards shadowing her, and jerked her head towards the three bulky rage demons wailing on Cassandra and the rest of the people fighting. “I've got the wraiths—go help where you're needed!” 

 

“But-” 

 

“I can run faster than you  _ and  _ the demons,” she pointed out, and she was quite pleased when they turned and actually listened to her. 

 

The first shade was focused more on the others than its surroundings, so it didn't get a good look at her as she slipped through the bushes; only when she plunged her dagger into its side. 

 

Cassandra had cut down the first rage demon and made quick work of the second with help. Someone had iced over the third with magic so that it shattered with a well-placed staff strike. Velasco punched a shade with her belt wrapped around her fist, but it disappeared before she could finish the job. She saw it's ethereal head poke up across the clearing, and made to cut across the battlefield to finish it off—but Varric's arrow caught it in the eye socket and it faded from view. 

 

With a crack, Velasco turned her head to look up, up, up at a small rift of power, hovering in the air like a shard of glass. She could see  _ something  _ on the other side of it, but before she could get a good look the mark on her hand flared up and she stumbled. 

 

A man with cold fingers reached down to grasp her hand and pulled her to her feet.  Her vision swam, and she felt the oddest burning sensation in her hand as he pulled it up— the mark reached out and latched into the tear in the veil, pulling on it like a hook, until the rift collapsed in on itself. 

 

Sweat dropped into her eyes and she grimaced, stumbling back on her feet as the stranger released her. She felt slightly woozy. “What… what did you do…?” 

 

“The credit is yours,” the bald elf said, staring down at her. Something in his face seemed vaguely off. He watched her carefully, as the world continued to spin around her. “...Are you alright?” 

 

“Yeah, I….” Velasco blanched, her face paling. 

 

For a second, she stared into his eyes, a light grey with just the barest hint of purple. She saw him reach for her, concern etched into his face, before she blacked out and fell backwards into the snow. 

 

As she heard the adults buzz around her and shout things, the green sky above her sparkled with an unimaginable light.

 

She closed her eyes, thinking it quite beautiful. 

 


	3. Little Toy Soldiers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the adults hesitate and Velasco is frighteningly objective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some vocab for this chapter:   
> "Sono qui, ciao, chancellor." = "I am here, hello, chancellor."  
> "Che cavolo, Vaffanculo." = "What the hell, fuck you." ("Che cavolo" also translates to "what the cabbage")

 

* * *

"I'm _fine_."

"We're not having this discussion again." Cassandra sat her down on a wooden barrel, eyes steely as she checked the elf for any signs of passing out again.

They had stopped by a broken down cabin, the inside still smouldering with the remains of a lesser rage demon. The dwarf, Varric, had scavenged a blanket and held it out towards the seeker, who wrapped it around Velasco's shoulders and scowled.

"I just slipped, you have no way to prove otherwise."

"Actually," said the tall elf, who Velasco came to know as Solas. He held his staff by his side and stared down at her with his lavender tinted eyes. Velasco had never seen such a color on another living thing before. "The mark may have overwhelmed you. I would be quite careful from now on—we're still not quite sure how it works just yet."

He seemed quite bothered by the fact, and watched Velasco as she leaned back on her barrel with a calculating stare. She stared right back at him, because one of the first things she had learned as an Antivan crow was to never back down in a fight you could win—and Velasco was very good at picking her battles. "You seem to know a whole lot more about how it works than anyone else."

"Yes, well…" Solas broke eye contact and Velasco allowed herself a triumphant little smirk. "I should hope so. Studying the fade and all its wonders is everything to me."

"Uh-huh." She kicked her leg out and let it fall with a thump against her barrel. "Why didn't they tie _you_ up and hit you with a broom for answers about the hole in the sky? Seems like you'd have a lot more answers than me."

Solas stared at her for a moment."I...they hit you with a _broom_?"

Cassandra straightened and looked at Velasco. "That never happened."

"But what if it _did_ , and you had no idea? I was in that room for a long, long time." Her guards looked amongst themselves and glanced back at Cassandra. Velasco ignored them. "Any one of them could have done it."

"We did not," one argued. "You're lying."

Velasco looked at Solas with a weary expression on her face. "I was tortured."

"That makes two of us," sighed Varric, ignoring the disgusted grunt from their lady seeker. "Awful, aren't they? The way they treat their prisoners..."

"We are not having this conversation," Cassandra hissed. She motioned towards the hole in the sky. "If you forget, allow me to remind you-"

"Yes, yes, we get it, seeker. Rift in the veil, lots of demons to deal with, such little time." The dwarf sighed, shrugging to himself. "Sorry for trying to lighten the mood."

Velasco hopped up her barrel and folded up her blanket. "I can keep going now, I'm not tired at all."

Solas caught her by the elbow as she stumbled on the flat ground. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that so?"

She wrenched her elbow away. "I'm fine."

"We would appreciate it… if you would not lie to us," said the elf, watching her expression carefully, along with the rest of the group. "If the mark is draining your life force, if it even _begins_ to bother you at all—"

"This way to the hole in the sky, right?" Velasco made a swift turn on her heel and started marching away from Solas, who followed after her.

It didn't take much until he was matching her strides effortlessly with the long legs of his. Velasco silently cursed his ancestors in Antivan. "There is nothing to be gained here by putting on a brace face-"

She shot him a blank look, and then glanced back at the rest of their company trailing behind, their faces a mix of concern and apprehension. " _Dal grembo alla tomba_ , focus on the mission."

Solas blinked and watched her walk past, trekking up the mountain with a single minded determination.

Cassandra fell in line with him and sighed, watching her soldiers speed up to at least offer some level of protection to the young crow as they climbed. "She is quite stubborn."

Solas purses his lips and glanced at the seeker. "Do you know of her parents?"

"I'm afraid not—she hasn't asked about anyone surviving the conclave either, I've been working under the assumption that she came alone." She sighed.

Whether or not she was guilty of destroying the conclave went unsaid; an answer to a question nobody in their company quite wanted to hear.

As they made their way up higher and another breach came within sight, Solas muttered something under his breath and shook his head. "What a mess this is."

Cassandra nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

**x**

Chancellor Roderick refused to make eye contact with her and he and Leliana argued over who was at fault for the divine's death. As they heard the oncoming approach of Cassandra and her party, Leliana seemed to relax a tad, but that was before the chancellor rounded on the seeker and started making demands.

All was fine and well until he noticed Velasco slung over Cassandra's shoulders, half delirious and red-eyed, and then he went quiet.

" _This_ is Lady Justinia's _murderer_?"

"Allegedly," Cassandra grunted, shifting Velasco's weight on her shoulders so she was more comfortable. The elf in question only rolled her head to the side and blinked at him, exhausted.

"Sono qui, ciao, chancellor." She let one of her arms fall from around Cassandra's neck, and made a half hearted attempt at offering him a handshake. He swiftly looked away. "Che cavolo, _Vaffanculo_."

Leliana and Cassandra raised their eyebrows at the heavily implied Antivan insult, but thankfully didn't translate for the chancellor. He turned and went on to argue with the spymaster about abandoning their attempts at sealing the veil before more lives could be lost.

"Leliana," Cassandra began, glancing down at Velasco as the elf closed her eyes and struggled to steady her breathing as the mark on her hand crackled. "Perhaps there are alternative ways to go about this."

"Are you serious?" She said, ignoring the pleased comments coming from the chancellor, who still wouldn't look in Cassandra or Velasco's direction. "You know as well as I do that this may be our _only_ chance at sealing the breach. Why are you hesitating now?"

"I am _not_ hesitating," Cassandra shot back, her mouth set in a grim line as she stared Leliana down. "I simply suggested-"

"We cannot simply sit on our laurels and wait for other options!" Leliana pointed a finger at Velasco's hand, weakly gripping Cassandra's armor. "The mark can close the rifts—that we know for certain. There is no other way to seal the breach Cassandra—perhaps later, but not now. Are you saying you're willing to let more lives be lost?"

" _Absolutely not_ ,' the seeker snarled, taking an accustotory step forward. "But leading a child to her death is not something I can do in good conscience-"

_They were really going at it_ , Velasco thought, listening to the collection of voices all jumping in to argue whether or not it was right to trade her life for the rest of the people living in the area. When Solas and Varric chimed in and the elf reinforced the idea that closing the breach, without a doubt, could have far reaching consequences on her health, Velasco groaned and slipped from Cassandra's back.

Cassandra stared at her. "Velasco, what are you-"

"Where do you keep your health tonics? Or pass me an elfroot to chew on or _something-_ " she fumbled with the potion after Solas passed one to her, uncorking the top and chugging down the rest of the elixir as the adults stood and stared at her. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and looked around. "Now, if anyone has a bow and arrow I could borrow, since apparently I'm going alone to seal the breach, I'd really appreciate it."

"You aren't going up there," Cassandra warned, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked down at the elf. All in all, quite threatening. Velasco gave her points for looking like she wanted to tie her up and throw her in a cell again.

"We don't know if closing the breach will kill you or not," said Solas, gently if not equally as commanding as the seeker. It seemed he didn't want her to march off to her death either.

Varric was in agreement. "You don't wanna do that, kid."

Velasco looked back to Leliana, watching her with the same calculating look on her face as she did in that cell.

She looked down at her hand, at the mark sewn into her palm. For now, it lay silent, a gentle burning as opposed to the thunderous, bone-splintering crackle that it did whenever the breach grew stronger. They were linked, inexplicably, Velasco knew for certain; as one expanded and swallowed the world, the other would follow. She couldn't run away even if she tried.

"You said yourself that I'm going to die anyway. It's going to kill me." She looked back up at Cassandra, who flinched. Velasco squared her shoulders and stepped towards Leliana. She eyed the pretty bow and quiver strapped to her back, and the spymaster raised an eyebrow at her. "Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. I like your bow."

The spymaster purses her lips and slipped it off her back without a word. She ignored the sound of the others protesting. "You _are_ an interesting one."

Neither of them apologized for what they said or did in the cell, only a few hours ago. There was no trace of a palm print on the spymaster's face, nor did she attempt at acting kind or motherly towards the girl in order to garner favor.

Velasco plucked the resin string of her new bow and slung it over her shoulder, satisfied.

As they plotted out the next line of their approach, neither Velasco nor Leliana mentioned the fact that she was very much heading off on a mission that spelt certain death. The only thing that Velasco thought, as her companions looked to her for any signs of weakness, for any reason to head back, was that this was a mission she could not back down from. A mission she could not fail.

_Dal grembo alla tomba._

_From the womb to the grave._


	4. Una valle della morte (a valley of death)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Velasco makes short work of that rift mess, and everyone is so very pleased with how professional she is.

They took the mountain path and there was no debate about it. Cassandra, after being won over and begrudgingly persuaded not to carry Velasco anymore, didn't mention the more direct approach, and so they set off. 

 

Solas hovered behind her as they made their way up the mountain, shadowing her almost the entire time. There was something deeply guilty about the way he stepped, and more than once Velasco loudly had to exclaim that this was her  _ choice _ , and had nothing to do with him. It only seemed to make things worse. 

 

“In Antiva,” she started, because nothing seemed to be working and every single one of the adults following behind her seemed deeply depressed about what they were doing now. “I was taught at a how to defend myself. The streets are dangerous to walk alone—I wouldn't have survived if not for my master.” 

 

_ That  _ raised a few eyebrows. 

 

She made a point not to mention a name or anything to do with her life as a crow. Divulging information that like was a death sentence—though if she thought about it, so was sealing the breach, but years of conditioning forced her to hold her tongue. 

 

“Death is an everyday threat for those who cannot defend themselves. I learned fast; quicker than others my age, because I had to.” 

 

They stopped to take out a few demons lurking nearby, and Velasco got the final shot over Cassandra’s shoulder, nailing a shade between the eyes before it withered away. The seeker straightened, uncomfortable with how easy it was for her to dispatch of demons so well. Velasco shrugged. 

 

“Before today I've never had to kill a demon before-it's much more preferable. I don't have to think about it afterwards.” She strung her bow back onto her shoulders and soldiered forward, further into the mines and the darkness. “I take it that none of you have had to threaten someone's life for their shoes before.” 

 

Solas lit a torch and passed it to Cassandra, his his mouth set in a grim line. “No.” 

 

“Don't pretend to know anything about my life, then.” She turned swiftly stepped along the cold stone floor, her feet making little sound.  

 

A second later, Varric held his arm up to stop her, spotting another horde of demons approaching. “Keep your head about you, at least, and stay close. What will we tell Leliana if you got ganked by demons before you even made it to the breach?” 

 

“That she can have her bow back.” She shot the dwarf a cheeky smile before she disappeared Into the shadows. 

 

A second later, she had sunk the dagger Cassandra had given her into the side of a particularly bony wraith. The blade stuck into its rib cage, and she cursed, releasing the handle and giving the demon some space before it could whirl around and grab her. 

 

Varric shot the wraith in the chest with a handful of arrows a moment later, and patted Bianca appreciatively as Velasco returned to his side. “You okay?” 

 

“Figlio di puttana! I'm down a dagger,” she said, frowning as she took her bow back out. Solas cast a barrier on them both and she nodded to him. “Back home, I’d have at least sixteen on my person at all times. This is so sad.” 

 

“ _ Sixteen? _ ” Solas said incredulously, while Varric let out a low whistle. “Why would you ever need that many?”

 

“Besides the obvious,” she said, rolling her head to the side as Cassandra and her soldiers dispatched of the last demons. “There's no way I could ever be disarmed.” 

 

“That's one way to go about it,” Varric said, nodding sagely. 

 

“It is  _ not _ ,” Solas argued, looking down at the two of them (both of which only came up to his waist). “That's absolutely way too many knives. What if you fell over?” 

 

“I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore,” Velasco said automatically, without a care in the world. She glanced at his staff and raised her eyebrows, several strands of raven hair sticking to her sweaty face. “Most of us can't magic up a weapon to use whenever we want. It's only fair, no?” 

 

“No,” he answered, looking down at her. “One should be more than enough.” 

 

“Maybe for some,” she shrugged, carrying on through the mines after they had deemed the area safe enough to move forwards. “But it is good to be prepared.” 

 

Solas watched her with empty eyes as the girl sped up to join Cassandra. Varric shot the elf a tired look and shook his head. “Let's just keep going, shall we?” 

 

He nodded. 

 

They found the dead scouts at the end of the mine. Cassandra and her soldiers carried the bodies and laid them down where the snow could not cover them, both hands resting on their stomachs as their eyes closed in respect. Only two soldiers from the cell remained now, one having died before they made it to Leliana at the fort. Several others had filled in the space and joined them as they made their way up the mountain. Velasco stared on, looking past the bodies to the conclave, where she could see the point in which the breach touched down and flooded the earth with green. 

 

Cassandra stood by her side and pursed her lips. She didn't ask if the girl wanted to turn back, it was already too late. “You are quite brave to choose to do this.” 

 

“I'm miles from home with no memory of why or how I came to do so,” she said, jutting out her chin as the clouds rumbled ominously above them. “Being brave is not a part of it.” 

 

Cassandra pinches the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “The maker must be testing us,  _ Verdammt _ .” 

 

Velasco raised an eyebrow at the slip of Nevarran. “What does that mean?” 

 

“Don’t worry about it,” said the seeker, gesturing for their party to move on forwards. Further down they would meet the rest of the troops, as well as commander Cullen holding back the rest of the demons with his soldiers. 

 

Velasco’s footsteps were careful as they made their way towards the conclave. The mark on her hand buzzed with energy, and she held it down by her side and pressed it into her leg as it grew more active. Solas offered her another potion but she turned it down, opting only to chew on a leaf of elfroot to numb the pain. 

 

“Best I stay aware,” she shrugged, ignoring the healer's protests. “The pain keeps us sharp, no?”

 

Solas didn't look like he believed her, but they approached the centre of the conclave. The bodies littering the ground were twisted effigies of fire and bone, yellow mummified skin pulled over dedicated skulls, still smoking from a fire that burnt them from the inside out. Velasco held her mouth to her face to keep the smog out of her lungs, and watched as the rest of their party held similarly disgusted and broken expressions. This was truly out of some sort of nightmare. 

 

“We found you, there.” Cassandra pointed out, gesturing towards an equally indistinguishable pile of rubble to any other. It did, perhaps, have less corpses strewn about it. Velasco wasn't sure if she could feel lucky about that or not. She watched the adults watch her expectantly, not sure what they wanted her to do or say. 

 

“It's… good that you did,” she said awkwardly between her fingers, still cupped around her mouth. Varric passed her a rag out of his pocket and she nodded. It smelt of oil and leather as she pressed it to her face. 

 

“This is lyrium…” Solas said as he inspected the red crystals jutting out from the ground, sickly and crackling slightly as they approached. They kept their distance as they crept further into the ruins, red lyrium growing larger as they neared the centre, where the breach touched down and poisoned the world.  

 

The mark in her hand grew seemingly impatient, biting into her hand and sending jolt after jolt up her arm. Velasco hissed in pain, grinding her teeth together as it grew worse—sweat dropped down the side of her face, into her eyes, as voices cried out. Something in the fade seemed to shift, and the ghost of a voice cried out; all eyes turned to the sky. 

 

“ _ Someone, help me!”  _

 

“That's… her most holy?” Cassandra stared up into the breach for answers, but found none. 

 

The next sound they heard was that of an arrow flying, glancing off what sounded like armor. 

 

“ _ Figlio di puttana, I missed! _ ” That was most definitely Velasco’s voice, though she couldn't remember saying those words herself. “ _ What are you doing to the divine?” _

 

There was a choking sound, Velasco frowned deeply when she heard her voice again. “ _ Mortacci tua… Mangia…merde e morte! _ ” 

 

“What does that mean?” Asked Varric, glancing over to her. 

 

“I insulted his ancestors and…” Cassandra and Solas looked at one another, and Velasco purses her lips. “Told him to eat shit and die.” 

 

Varric let out a loud guffaw, and several other soldiers shared a chuckle. Cassandra raised both eyebrows, seemingly judging Velasco into infinity. It was nothing new to Velasco, and she ignored her. 

 

The final voice was deepest of all, commanding, if not chilling as it spoke. Something about it felt wrong and almost distorted _. “We have an intruder. Slay the child.”  _

 

Cassandra shook her head in awe, an indescribable expression on her face. “Justinia called out to you... What happened? Who attacked her? What do you  _ know? _ ” 

 

“I don't know  _ anything _ ,” Velasco said, shaking her head back and forth, as if it didn't make sense to her either. She couldn't remember any of it. “I don't  _ miss— _ I never would have missed my shot if I was aiming at something.” 

 

The fervent fire in the seeker’s eyes did not extinguish. She took a step towards her. “Surely you must know  _ something— _ you were  _ there.  _ Did her most holy… is she..?” 

 

Solas stepped in and kept Cassandra from finishing. “These are echoes of what happened here—the fade  _ bleeds  _ into this place. I wouldn't be surprised if it recorded the last moments before the explosion.” 

 

Velasco turned to see Leliana's archers circle around the remains of the conclave, perched in the perfect position to strike before demons would come spilling out of the breach. She listened to Solas instruct them about what to do, focusing especially when he turned to her and gestured to her hand, clenched into a fist as the mark flared against her fingernails. 

 

“Are you prepare for use it on the breach?” He asked, as if she wasn't already. 

 

Velasco fixed him with a stare and silently wished he wasn't treating her with kid-gloves. She slung Leliana's bow off her back and held it in her good hand, rolling her shoulders. She intended to prove him wrong. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

The battle was tense. Opening the breach in and of itself proved a challenge—Velasco reached out with the mark, but struggled to make contact at first. Solas hovered by her side and gave her words of encouragement, seeing as he was the only one among them with any real idea of how to use magic, and she did her best. After a lengthy argument between them all on how she should  _ properly  _ use the mark without killing herself, Velasco  _ finally  _ figured out how to do it without fainting. All it took was for her to get  _ right underneath  _ the breach and to stand on Solas’s shoulders. 

 

“This is what it looks like to save the world!” she shouted, looking down at all the soldiers and archers trying to keep a straight face. She caught Varric laughing and pointed at him. “Take some fucking notes!” 

 

“Language!” Cassandra barked, not at all charmed by how bizarre the whole situation was. Her face was steely as the breach thundered above them, ready to spill demons on their heads at a moments notice. “Make ready! It's about to  _ open _ .” 

 

Solas set her back down on the ground and she nodded at him. “Back of the group for us.” 

 

“So you  _ were  _ paying attention to our strategizing.” He seemed thankful she didn't have a  _ complete  _ death wish, guiding her back behind a line of heavily armoured infantry. She recognized absolutely none of them, but he told her that they belonged to commander cullen’s men. “You know what to do then?”

 

“You told me to hide and try not to scream.” She stared at him as the mark on her hand blazed, and things began to fall out of the sky. “Do I look like a coward to you?” 

 

“It is okay to be scared,” he said quietly, watching her face for any sign of weakness. “Many people would be terrified of what we are about to do.” 

 

“I would be less scared if I could carry more knives. Cassandra wouldn’t let me have more than three.” 

 

Solas shook his head and turned to the breach. “That's still too many.” 

 

The pride demon emerged. The floor shook as it roared, wiping the floor of soldiers as they charged. Arrows bounced off its thick hide, pitting the floor as they danced around the battlefield. Velasco hung back and kept to the shadows, but her hands shook as the creatures barreled through the infantry and crumpled armoured soldiers like puddy. 

 

Her feet were steady as she made her way around the floating statue of Andraste. She kept her distance from the red lyrium, her hand pressed to her though as the mark cracked, so close to the breach as the fade seemed to crystallize in the air, shifting with a strange power. She could feel the uneasiness in the air—could taste salt and sweat on her mouth as the pride demon swiped left and right. She could hear the whip-crack sound of electricity, and then the cry of soldiers as they rushed in to take up the space their brothers and sisters left, falling dead to the ground. 

 

Velasco had never been in a battle like this. Nothing in her training as a crow had prepared her for an open battlefield—her skills were in stealth and surprise attacks. She was the weakest link on the field, and the demons that spilled in from the rift knew it. They sniffed her out among the chaos and lept at her, teeth gnashing in a mad fury. 

 

Solas speared a shade with a deadly chunk of ice after she had jumped out of its reach in time, and a second fell to Bianca after Varric had saved her from a particularly quick rage demon. Spells flew above their heads as wraiths targeted them, but Velasco picked them out with Leliana’s bow before they could make their mark. 

 

When she had time, she reached for the breach, forcing it open and stunning the creatures before they could get their bearings. 

 

What remained was the pride demon—seemingly untouched as swords and arrows alike glanced off it. Cassandra darted between its legs as the demon was distracted by Leliana’s archers, and didn't catch the seeker in time before she slammed the edge of her ballade down, again and again, into the soft flesh of its ankle. The demon tilted, snarled, and reached around for to grab at her. It's claws found her shield, and a deadly game of tug and war took place as the demon fended off similar attacks from its front. 

 

Velasco saw Cassandra’s feet give way, and she darted forward, ignoring Solas’s shout for her to stop. She jumped around several armoured men and avoided the demon’s arm as it swept forward, trying to catch her. Velasco swallowed the rising fear in her throat, pushing herself forward. She could feel is hot breath against her face, she was so close. She aimed—right at its big, ugly eye sockets—pulled back on her bow, and  _ let go.  _

 

The demon  _ screamed _ and let go of Cassandra’s shield, stumbling forward. 

 

She could hear someone shout her name as she rolled out of the way in time, and the pride demon’s foot crashed down where she had just been standing. She let out a sigh of relief—

 

And the creature’s  _ massive hand swung forward, clipping her in the side and sending her flying.  _

 

The battle came to her in bits and pieces after that. 

 

The ground was hard. Coming to, Velasco couldn't breathe, she didn't know where she was. 

 

There was a crackle of electricity in the air, and suddenly she was being moved—well,  _ dragged,  _ really. Her feet trailed behind her uselessly as someone looped their arm under her stomach. Someone shouted her name, and someone else shone a bright light in her face. 

 

Her ears were ringing—the world spun, not as bad than it did the first time she closed a rift but just as disorienting. She felt like throwing up. 

 

So she did. Much to Varric’s displeasure. 

 

“ _ Kid _ , right on the shoes! I thought you said you were a good shot.” 

 

“I  _ am _ .” Velasco wiped her mouth on the rag he had given to her, before handing it back to him with a grim look on her face. “A gift, from me to you.” 

 

The dwarf rolled his eyes and stuffed the rag into his back pocket. “You shouldn't have.” 

 

Velasco wobbled on her feet, sagging backwards onto the ground as the floor rumbled and the pride demon went charging in the opposite direction. “I don't… feel… so good.” 

 

Suddenly, Solas was there. Was that where the bright light had come from? He twirled his Mage staff in his hands, the light… glinting… off his bald head. Velasco was seeing stars. Something was  _ definitely  _ off. 

 

“—lasco, are you hearing me? I think you might have a concussion.” 

 

“That's silly,” she said, pulling herself back onto her feet. She strung an arrow onto her bow and aimed for the pride demon, only for it to go way off target. She let out a loud groan and put a hand over her face. “That's twice I've missed now! What is this?! Madre perdonami e non sentire mai questo..! This is a  _ nightmare! _ ” 

 

For a moment she could see Varric and Solas look at one another, and then she was on the ground again and Someone was holding onto her. 

 

“I'm… fine…” she said, pushing aside Solas’ glowy Mage staff with a huff. With her accuracy with a bow completely thrown off, she tossed it to the side angrily and got back to her feet. Now was not the time for tantrums, but she could feel it in her bones, the anger, rising. 

 

Solas snatched the dagger out of her hands before she did something  _ stupid  _ and fell again, and the rest of her knives followed suit. 

 

“I'm fine!” 

 

“You are not!” He shot back, anger rising in him as the battle raged. The pride demon got back up from ground after Cassandra had locked it off its feet, and it continued to thin out the group of soldiers, breathing coming heavy now as they chipped away at its health. “You are to stay back and keep still! You have a head wound!” 

 

“ _ Fuck you! _ ” The mark was burning now, and the only thing on her mind as she took a step forward. Swords and broken steel littered the ground in front of her, and Solas cast a last second shield on them both as the pride demon shot out a blast of electricity. 

 

The dust settled. Varric, Solas, and the remaining survivors watched on as Velasco reached out to tear at the breach one final time. 

 

The pride demon fell forward—Cassandra plunged her sword into the meaty part of its neck. “Its weakened! Seal the rift!” 

 

The last thing Velasco remembered was the distinct sound of popping, the color green, and the smell of burning, before it all went to black. 

  
  



	5. The Little Herald's Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Velasco makes Solas and Varric regret signing those custody papers

  
  


She had a dream she was back in the barracks, under those blankets that itched the longer she lay under them, on the bunk bed that always squeaked when she sat on it. The sounds of the other children sleeping were a quiet background noise, and she could see from the small window in the wall where the stars were, among the towering brick walls and spires. The Crows had a habit of moving their sleeping quarters every couple months, but it was nights like this when all was quiet and things felt safe enough, that Velasco let herself settle down and enjoy her time for what it was. So often she found her time slipping away to missions and assignments these days—she missed her training days where she could almost trick herself into some semblance of relaxation.

 

And then her master would break into the room with a heavy lantern in her hands, ordering them to all wake-up. They would start the day all over again and train until every part of Velasco ached, her back was soaked with sweat, and her lungs burned. It was all worth it though because one-day training meant another safe night spent without having to look over her shoulder, as she had to on days she took missions.

 

“Living… hurts…” Velasco groaned, reaching a hand up to stop the throbbing in her head. Her hand caught on the sheet pinning her into her bed, and she felt… cotton? She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. “Make it stop.”

 

“I'm afraid I won't do that, Da'len.” Solas pressed a cold cloth to her forehead and looked down at her as she groaned. “I see your head is still hurting. That would be the concussion.”

 

“Great. Thanks.” She squinted at her surroundings and let the cloth fall over her eyes. “Can it get any brighter? Che palle! Who let the sun in?”

 

She heard him rise from his chair and walk away from her, wooden floorboards creaking slightly until eventually, the room grew a bit darker. He returned a moment later. “Better?”

 

Velasco sunk a bit lower into her bed. It smelt like fresh soap and flowers. “I'm dead and in the afterlife, aren't I?”

 

She pushed the cloth back into her forehead and saw him lean back in his chair and chuckle. “What makes you say that?”

 

“There's no way-” she pulled the covers up to her chin and let her hair fan out around her. She felt clean and… cared for. “-something like this is real. If you're a demon or something, gimme five more minutes before you eat my soul, mmkay?”

 

Solas fixed her with a measured state. “I worry you're being serious.”

 

“Oh, I'm very serious.” She turned over so her face was firmly stuffed into her pillow. It was made of real feathers! This was definitely a dream. “I didn't realize soul-sucking felt so soft…..”

 

Her pillow was pulled from under her a moment later. “I could explain to you all the ways in which you're wrong but it'd be time better spent seeing how out of sorts you are. What's the last thing you remember?”

 

“Proving you wrong,” she said smugly, propping herself up with her arms. Her cloth fell onto the mattress with a wet thump, and she found that someone had changed her out of her leather crow armor and into a pale green nightgown. She frowned. “How long have I been here?”

 

Solas frowned, resting her pillow on his lap as he leaned back into his chair. “Three days.”

 

She groaned something Antivan and his frown deepened, which she ignored. “So the mark hasn't swallowed me whole, hm? How kind of it.”

 

He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how. “Yes… it seems to be stable for now…”

 

A door opened to her right. A tall and bony elf walked in with a crate in her arms and promptly dropped it seeing that Velasco had woken up. “O-Oh! I didn't know you were awake-”

 

“It's alright,” said Solas, giving her a moment to collect her broken healing supplies. “I've got this.”

 

She mentioned Cassandra and orders and the. promptly fled back out the door. Varric peeked his head in a moment later. “Is it true? The kid’s awake?”

 

Solas raised an eyebrow at him “How long have you been eavesdropping?”

 

“Long enough.” The dwarf approached the end of Velasco's bed and shot her a warm smile. He looked like he hasn't slept in a while. “Welcome to the afterlife, sweetpea.”

 

“Don't encourage her...”

 

“So, ghost-Varric, do they serve food in the afterlife or do we just starve?” Velasco sat up in her bed and drew her legs underneath her nightgown. “Apparently I haven't eaten in three days.”

 

“If you were dreaming you wouldn't feel hunger…” Solas said, looking like he deeply wanted to explain the inner workings of the fade but Varric didn't let him.

 

“I'm pretty sure the tavern’s cooking lunch about now. Want me to grab you something?”

 

Velasco started climbing out of bed but wobbled once her feet hit the floor. Solas caught her arm, and quickly released her once she got her balance. She looked down at her bare legs. “Whoa… where are my pants.”

 

“And that's where I take my leave.” Varric quickly turned on his heel and marched back out the door, throwing a quick ‘I hope you like gruel!’ Over his shoulder before the door swung shut after him.

 

“I do not like gruel.”

 

“I see. Well, if you're feeling well enough to stand…” Solas rose from his chair and put her pillow back her bed. “There's a change of clothes in the dresser over there that should fit you. Understandably, finding something that would fit proved a bit of a problem, but I've been told they're a gift from some of the locals. I’ll wait outside while you change .”

 

“Thanks.”

 

The green nightgown wasn’t her color. There was a large red blouse with her name on it in the drawer and she took it out, but it reached past her knees when she put it on. Taking a belt (good for all situations, it seemed) she tucked the edges into her pants after she pulled some on. The effect was something to be desired— the blouse ballooned out at the end and made her look like some sort of… red mushroom with a head and arms. She untucked one side of the shirt, letting it fall, and left the other half tucked in. There.

 

With only half a mushroom shirt, Velasco nodded to herself and walked towards the door, pleased that she didn't stumble or feel dizzy for the moment. She made it two steps outside and saw the snow on the ground and sun shining up above before she saw Solas. She wanted to get her things back from Leliana before someone ended up trashing them—or worse, searching her assassin gear too closely.

 

It was five steps out the door that she noticed the large crowd of people staring at her. Immediately, she froze.

 

“There she is, that's the Herald!”

 

“The what.” Velasco felt a hundred pairs of eyes on her and willed her hands to stay still—without her permission, her hands clenched and began to shake.

 

“The Herald of Andraste!”

 

“Who-?!” Velasco searched for the person who said that her eyes narrowed. With so much attention on her, she felt a chill go down her spine.

 

Solas seemed to take note of her anxiety and stepped between her and the crowd. “Da’len, are you alright?”

 

“That's the one who stopped the breach from getting bigger!”

 

“Our hero! Look, there she is!”

 

“Herald, how are you after killing that pride demon?”

 

“Did she really that that? How brave!”

 

“I'm fine,” she lied, taking a step backward. It was too much—way too much. Velasco was used to living in the shadows and avoiding attention; it had been drilled into her that this many eyes meant danger, detection, death. This was so wrong.

 

“—erald of Andraste! Came out of the fade and everything! Blessed by the maker, I tell you!”

 

“Where are her parents?”

 

“Poor thing looks like she's about to faint-”

 

“Velasc-” Solas watched in dismay as she turned on her heel and quickly slammed the door behind her.

 

A second later, amongst the rumblings of the crowd, Solas could hear a glass breaking and hurried inside.

 

The cabin was empty. Solas pulled the covers off her bad and found nothing there—her wardrobe was empty, save for the clothes he had told her about and her nightgown. How could she just disappear? Solas ran a hand over his head and turned around, looking for any place she could have hidden—

 

Then, a cold draft of air got his attention, and he saw that the window had been broken open.

 

“Velasco!” The window was just barely big enough for him to squeeze through—large enough for a child of her size—and his feet hit the snow a second later. “What are you doing?”

 

She froze at the sound of her name, stricken, halfway up on the next door neighboring cabin’s roof. “Um. Going to get my things?”

 

“Get down from there!” Solas stood and watched her climb higher until she was completely on top of the roof with no intention of coming down. “You still have a concussion—what if you fell?”

 

“Then I wouldn't have to worry about it?” She scampered up the side of the building to avoid being spotted by the crowd, eyeing the thick fence constructed behind their cabins, until she eventually came to a gap where the next cabin stood.

 

Solas gasped and climbed over a series of barrels between the cabin and the fence. Nobody was really meant to walk behind these houses—most of it was bulky storage and firewood, hard objects that definitely did not make a fall easier. The side of the roof was encased in ice as the young crow gauged the distance, and he watched a steely resolve formed in her eyes. 

 

“Do not jump-”

 

She jumped. 

 

“Fenedhis-”

 

Solas cast a last minute barrier around her, but Velasco didn't seem to need it. She stuck the landing despite the icy roof and danced across the side of the building like it was nothing.

 

Solas stumbled over several other crates and amenities stacked outside as he watched Velasco turn the corner. The second he had eyes on her again, she had abandoned her roof and found herself scaling the side of a tree, the same higher as the fence, and was climbing higher.

 

If he had hair surely it would be grey by now. “Is it really worth it, da’len?!”

 

He watched as she planted one foot on the thick pillars and pushed off—another glowing barrier around her, no thanks to Solas. He froze and waited for the sound of her hard landing and cries of help, but the sound never came.

 

“Velasco?”

 

Nothing. Solas abandoned his place behind the houses and sped towards the other side of the fence.

 

There was no sign of her on the other side. Solas turned around to try and catch sight of her head somewhere in the heavy camp but found nothing. By then the people on the other side of the fence had given up on seeing the herald and split up, spilling out into the street below.

 

Solas scaled the stone wall beneath the heavy wooden spikes, ignoring the eyes on him. Judging by the tips of the trees poking out from the other side…

 

There, by the edge, a series of small footprints in the snow indicated where she had landed. He tracked them along the side of the wall until the suddenly started going up the side of the large stone gate and disappeared on the other side.

 

Solas had a very bad feeling.

 

“Hey, there you are!” Varric stared up at him from the ground and shook his head. He had a loaf of bread and a jar of jam in his hands. “The seeker wants to see the kid. What are you doing up there?”

 

Solas slid down the side of the wall, tracking as far as the stone foundation went until it disappeared behind the blacksmith's shop. “There's been… a complication.”

 

“Don't tell me you lost her.”

 

“I… misplaced… her…” he sighed as he tried to explain. “She reacted poorly to the attention of Haven and ran. I didn't think it would be this bad.”

 

Varric pinched the bridge of his nose. “We should've thought this through better. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

 

“I have a theory.” Solas led him down the path and explained what happened on the way. All was fine and well until they got to the blacksmiths and found no trace of the Herald.

 

“She's about ye big, dark hair and brown skin, has an unhealthy obsession with knives?” Varric shook his head when none of the apprentices inside said anything. “Right, well, thanks anyway. Take some bread for your troubles.”

 

After cutting them a slice and asking anyone else on their way down the wall, Varric was about a quarter of a loaf left before they came to a stop. The wooden wall gave way into the camp, and Solas spotted tiny snow footprints leading further into Haven.

 

“Whoa, where are you going?” Varric watched as the elf scaled up the side of the wall to get a better look. “That's… fine, I guess. I'll take the long way around.”

 

If anyone had any questions on why a dwarf was running through camp and tossed a price of bread at a heavy scout, they said nothing and looked on. He rounded the corner and made his way towards the catapults, where surely The elf would have waited for him or caught the kid and—

 

There was nobody there.

 

“Figures.” Varric doubled over to catch his breath and waved off the confused guard who tried to help him back up. “I'm fine—dwarves are… n-natural born sprinters…”

 

“If you say so ser,” said the woman, clearly not believing him. She shook her head and returned to her post.

 

A second later, another guard showed up in a huff. “Reya, do you see that? Someone's up on the mountain!”

 

“Are we being invaded?!”

 

Varric swore out loud and turned his eyes to the nearby slope. Sure enough, a tiny black dot darted across a snow pile and up onto the rocks onlooking the chantry.

 

A larger dot was in pursuit.

 

“They get to have all the fun.” And he was off, running again until he could directly see the path they were taking. The kid wasted no time in picking her destination, but Solas was hot on her heels and pissed, if his posture gave anything away as he followed after her. There was a flash of blue, a brief flare of magic, and the tiny dot was surrounded by another shield as it slid down the side of the embankment and made its way around the back of the apothecary. Varric made it by the skin of his teeth as Velasco made it to the side of the chantry, looking for a window or side entrance to break into.

 

“You're being completely unreasonable!”

 

“Whoa—Solas, tone it down a second, I…” Varric wheezed, leaning on the wall for support. “One second, I… I can't believe you both just made me run through the entire camp…”

 

“I'm being perfectly reasonable!” Velasco shot back, her small fists clenched by her side. She didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that she was arguing directly up, craning her head back as she stood her ground. “They think I'm the chosen one!”

 

“They're confused, they look to you for answers,” Solas shot back. “That doesn't mean you have to scale a mountain-”

 

“That's exactly what it means.” Velasco turned from him and walked towards a wooden buttress, directly underneath a window.

 

“This is not happening again!” Solas wrapped his arm around her middle before she could get too high, and pulled her off before she could get away. “Think reasonably! You're only making things more difficult for yourself.”

 

“Let go of me!” The kid thrashed in his arms and twisted—breaking his hold and falling into the snow a second later. She turned around to face them and looked like she had been burned. “Don't ever touch me again.”

 

“Easy, now…” Varric held up his hands to try and ease the tension between the two elves. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Why don't we just go back inside and settle things there-”

 

The kid shook her head and didn't budge. She looked close to freezing at that point, her knuckles shaking and her breath coming out in quick puffs of steam. “I need to get my things.”

 

Solas seemed to think that it was useless, but Varric jumped at the chance to get her someplace warm; the chantry had at least seven fires burning inside for just that purpose. “Alright, well, where do you think it'll be?”

 

“In Leliana’s room,” she said quickly, as if it were the first thing she thought of. “If not there then somewhere close to where they locked me up. I don't need you to help me, just don't get in my way.”

 

Varric shared a glance with Solas, who merely shook his head. It was settled, then. If only to help her feel better.

 

“If that's what it takes...”

 

Varric sighed, hoping it wouldn't involve any more physical labor at least until he caught his breath. Belatedly, he realized he was still holding a jar of jam, and gently placed it in the snow.

 

He gestured for Velasco to start moving. “Ladies first.”

  
  
  



	6. Super Sneaky Spies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velasco's gut instinct after waking up from a mini-coma is to commit crimes. her two new dads need to recognize that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Velasco: nobody look at me! im a shadow in the night! im a ghost! none of you are permitted to look at me! blocked! blocked! blocked!

 

Breaking into the spymasters room was easier than she thought. Velasco gently eased herself onto Leliana’s desk with a practiced grace, eyes darting around the room for any sign of her gear.

 

Solas followed behind her. There was a fluidity in the way the older elf moved, and he handled himself with a sharp jerking motion, as if to make his displeased thoughts known with the simple way in which he got down off the desk. He still thought this plan was foolish. “Close the door before anyone notices.”

 

Varric let out a curse, watching them from the window as he awkwardly tried to squeeze through.

 

“ _Che palle.”_  Velasco shot solas a dirty look, already having moved across the office to close the door. “This isn't the _first_ time I've had to do this. It's like child's play by now.”  

 

“So I see,” he said, betraying nothing as he looked down at her.

 

_Grumpy old man._ Velasco turned and started unlatching chests and cabinets.

 

When Varric finally fell through the window with an inglorious _crash_ they froze, the heavy thump ringing in their heads as they waited for a sign that said someone had heard. Solas and Velasco shared a look of understanding that, if caught, they'd _definitely_ be thrown in a cell, but nobody came through the door and all was silent.

 

“Let's just get this _done_ and get out of here,” she hissed, keeping her footsteps light as she krept through the room, turning over papers and chests.

 

“And you're absolutely positive there's no other way to go about this,” whispered Solas, watching her and putting in no effort to help. “Rather than, say, _asking?”_

 

“I'm fine by the way, don't worry about me.” Varric pulled himself up dusted himself off. He took three steps and then froze, both elves glaring at him like he reopened the breach. “What?”

 

“Must you walk so loudly?” Solas murmured at the same time Velasco brought a finger up to her mouth and said _‘shhhh!’_

 

“I ‘ _must’_ walk at some point, so--” he took an exaggerated step and waved his fingers. “Next time we do some breaking an entering, i’ll bring my super _sneaky elf shoes_ instead of the ones I have on now. We can _match_ , baldy.” 

 

“I’m afraid your feet will get very cold then,” Velasco smirked, looking down at solas’s toes.

 

He didn’t even seem to care about the shoe thing, staring down at Varric with a pinched expression on his face. “Its shaved. I’m not bald.”

 

“That sounds like an excuse a bald person would say,” Velasco murmured, also earning herself a sharp look.

 

“I can grow hair anytime I want.” Velasco let out a quiet snort. Solas closed his eyes and gestured for her to keep rifling through the office. “Nevermind. We are _not_ having this conversation right now.”

 

She searched the room from top to bottom, emptying out boxes of papers and the rest of the desk, to no avail. Finally, quite frustrated with her lack of progress, Velasco ran a hand through her hair and huffed, glancing back at the door leading to the rest of the chantry. “It's not here.”

 

“Then you're willing to see sense now?”

 

She vehemently shook her head and Solas sighed. “I _have_ to know if anyone's made off with my things. An assassin is nothing without their gear-- _I'm nothing_ without it. I can't just wait around until Leliana _feels like_ giving it back to me.”

 

“I see…” he said thoughtfully, sharing a look with Varric. They seemed to be at an agreement. “Well, if that's the case…”

 

“Onto the spymaster’s dungeon?” Velasco tiptoed over to the door and opened it just a tad, before giving the all-clear.

 

They spilled out into the hallway and Varric groaned to himself, following after the two of them as they passed intricately stone alcoves and pillars. The perfect hiding spot in case someone walked by. “The seeker’s going to kill us when she finds out about this…”

 

“Why wait for Cassandra?” Leliana said, smiling at the three of them as she stepped out from the shadows. They immediately froze, caught in the act barely ten feet away from her office. Her smile grew catlike. “I see you've been having fun after your rest, Velasco. Unless you prefer going by _Herald_ now…”

 

“I do not,” she murmured, not quite meeting the spymaster’s gaze.

 

“Do you prefer _Mea,_ then?” Velasco’s eyes snapped up to hers and Leliana laughed at her reaction. “It's a pretty name, I don't see why you don't use it more.”

 

“That's none of your business,” she shot back, hands clenched by her sides. Varric and Solas looked between them in confusion. Velasco took a step forward, her eyes hard as she looked down the woman in front of her. “So you looked through my things. I'd like to have them back now.”

 

“All you had to do was ask,” she said, smiling gently. She looked close to laughing again when Velasco’s face fell.

 

She could feel Solas’s eyes on her back as she shook her head. “Don't say-”

 

“Looks like he told you so.” Velasco swore out loud and glared at Varric for filling in for him. “What? We were all thinking it.”

 

Leliana shook her head and turned to walk down the hall. “Now, if you're quite done your breaking and entering, come with me to my office and you'll have your gear back.”

 

Velasco stared at her and motioned behind them, to the room they had just come out of. “Um… that wasn't your office?”

 

“Maker, _no.”_ She looked back at them when Velasco swore again, louder this time, and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I keep my things in a room so easily accessible? You think you're the first spy trying to break in?”

 

“Nnnno….” Velasco ran a hand down her face and followed the spymaster, blushing despite her best efforts.

 

They walked in silence, much to the spymaster’s amusement, and she could practically feel Varric and Solas’s judging eyes on her back as they turned a corridor into the main hall of the chantry.

 

She could faintly hear the sound of singing and prayer from the clergy as they called on Andraste’s name for strength and guidance. Something about the whole affair left a bad taste in Velasco’s mouth. She kept her eyes on Leliana’s back as they walked past so many people, staring, whispering, calling out her _new title_ as if it meant something when it really didn't. It was when they neared a great golden statue of Andraste, reaching far up to the ceiling with all her glorious golden might, that they were finally stopped by the sounds of heavy clanking and the sounds of many footsteps.

 

“Leliana, there you are!”

 

The voice belonged to a curly haired soldier with a fur pelt around his shoulders and a lion emblazoned on his chest. His accent was Ferelden, but Velasco wondered if he had ties with Orlais—lions were kinda their whole thing. Either he was a very good spy, a very bad spy, or he was _stupid._ Either way, wearing the national emblem of Ferelden’s sworn enemy took guts; she had to give him that _._ His men circled around him, panting, as if he had just pulled them out of their patrols and run through the entire camp.

 

_“_ There's been reports of spies on the northern face of the camp and the Herald has been reported missing, I came as soon as I heard—” he looked down and blinked, catching sight of Velasco who was maybe-somewhat-hiding behind Leliana. “Oh! Good, she's here with you. I was worried we… well, nevermind. I'm glad you're feeling better, Herald.”

 

“Again with that name!” Velasco turned to look at all the adults circled around her and shook her head. “Is this some sort of joke? Funny ha-ha, pretend your prisoner is the chosen one while she's asleep and see what she does when she wakes up? I'm telling you now—I don’t have a sense of humor for that kind of thing. I'd really just prefer nobody call me anything at all. Better yet, everybody _stop looking at me completely and leave me alone.”_

 

_“Whoa_ —okay, um,” commander Cullen pursed his lips, not sure if he should look at Velasco or Leliana or his soldiers, who were probably very much thinking they were being invaded by a legitimate threat instead of two elves prancing up on the side of a mountain. “I'm sorry for any misunderstanding there might have been—?”

 

“It's alright, Cullen, I've got this.” Leliana turned and knelt down, so she was at an even level with Velasco’s line of sight. To the side, Cullen dismissed his soldiers and told them all go back to their posts. “Would you prefer we talk somewhere else? With so many pairs of eyes watching...>?”

 

“Yeah, okay, _sure_ ,” Velasco muttered, not at all happy that the spymaster felt like she had to talk down to her and make her feel comfortable when she still very much felt like a prisoner in Haven. “After you.”

 

“The both of you are free to head back to your respective lodgings, if you wish,” Leliana said to her companions as they walked towards the end of the grand hallway, passing by the statue of andrastate. “But you are free to join us.”

 

“What do you say, kid?” Varric folded his head towards her as they walked side by side. “Want us to stick around?”

 

Solas made a similar remark but utterly remained neutral on staying or going. Velasco wasn't quite sure _why_ they wanted to hang around her still—didn't get why they were being so friendly, but she shrugged her shoulders and said they could come if they wanted. She didn't really have great plans once they entered the room next to the war room—but the moment Leliana brought out a bundle of dark leather wrapped around a particularly familiar looking bow, all thoughts were wiped from her mind and she dashed forwards.

 

“My stuff!” She held the bundle like a baby in her arms, ignoring the looks shared between the adults and laid it out on the big desk in the middle of the room. For a moment, a brief flash of _pure joy_ crossed her face, and then she started placing them all in a very familiar pattern.

 

It was a practiced ritual. They watched her as she worked, taking in her methodical checking of every object as she laid them out, starting with the bow and working her way out, with her old quiver and arrows.

 

They were worn from constant use, and she plucked her bowstring, frowning to herself when the sound came back awkward and warbled—in need of re-stringing as soon as possible. On the sides of both the bow and her quiver were intricately hand-carved doodles and designs. Her fingers traced the notches in the wood, lingering over the gentle curve of a feather, mirrored on her face and jaw, and then she set the bow down and continued on.

 

Her leather braces were next—tiny, to fit her arms. They were custom made but hand-me-downs from their previous owner, whose initials were scratched out and replaced with a harsh M.V. instead. Then came her boots, her belt, her knives (only seven, she had been on a stealth mission), her ugly leather chest piece that inhibited her more than it ever helped her—there were few documents and health tonics, a bag of poisonous herbs (still good for later) and a single silver arrow attached to a cord. She held it up and turned it over in her hands, relief pouring off her in waves, and then quickly looped it around her neck and tucked it into her shirt.

 

Solas watched her curiously, one eyebrow raised as she she started putting everything on—she tossed her old shoes to the side and slipped on the ones her master had given her, already feeling more like herself.

 

“That arrowhead is dalish make—no?”

 

She paused halfway through buckling on her arm brace. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

 

“The inscription,” he started, gesturing for her to take her necklace out of her shirt and show him. She didn't. Both his eyebrows raised. “It has the mark of Mythal on it.”

 

“I wouldn't know anything about that,” she said shortly, strapping on the last of her armor (sans the leather chest piece). “The arrow belongs to the man who killed my parents.”

 

Solas blinked at that, and Varric looked at her, confused. “Why do you keep it then?”

 

“I plan on giving it back someday.” She slid the first, second and then the fourth knife into place, hiding them in theri holisers under her clothes and inside her bracers. Her mouth was set in a grim line. “ _Hard_.”

 

The room was quiet, chillingly so, and Velasco tucked the last few of her belongings into her pockets before she turned to the door.

 

“Leaving so soon?” Asked Leliana, watching her by the door. Velasco nodded sharply. “Do you have a particular location in mind?”

 

“Home—Antiva, I don't know.” Velasco moved to open the door but found it being blocked by the spymasters hand. “What?”

 

“Kid, you don't seriously think we could let you go running around in Thedas while there's demons around and a hole in the sky to deal with,” Varric said very sympathetically, but all she heard was that they were still going to keep her as a prisoner. “How do you plan on getting there?”

 

“I could figure something out,” she shot back, insulted that they didn't think she was capable of taking care of herself _after she stopped an entire breach._ “I got here _somehow_ , it's not like-”

 

Her face fell, and she went silent. Leliana looked at her. “What is it?”

 

“Oh. I just...” she glaced off to the side, unsure whether or not if she should say anything. “You’re…. right. I probably didn’t come here alone.”  

 

She quickly pushed past her and opened the door, walking into the main hall. From the windows up above, she could just barely see the hint of green colouring the clouds. She brought up her hand with the mark and held it to her chest.

 

“You alright?” Varric stood next to her and watched as she rubbed her thumb painfully over the green embedded in her palm.  

 

She had a faraway look in her eyes as she spoke—her voice only a whisper. “Why can't I remember any of it…?”

 

“There are options, here, that you may explore if you wish to regain your memory.” Solas looked down at her, sympathetic and guarded at the same time, careful in how he approached the topic. “If you truly wish to know, staying here would be your best option.”

 

Velasco thought it over and let her hands fall to her sides. To their left the sounds of people arguing within the war room rose, and they could distinctly hear the sound of Cassandra’s voice among them. Leliana purses her lips and took a tentative step towards the door.

 

“A topic for another time, perhaps. Herald, if you could join me for a moment please?”

 

Velasco looked back at Solas and Varric for a moment, before she sighed and followed her. “Only if you stop calling me that.”

 

Leliana didn't answer and simply walked inside, holding the door open as Velasco stepped in.

 

In the centre of the war room table sat Varric’s jar of jam, a haggard looking chancellor Roderick, a _very angry looking Cassandra_ , and a confused, if anxious commander Cullen.

 

“Leliana, good, thank the maker-” commander Cullen rose from his chair and leaned forward, putting both palms on the table as he lorded over the jar, his eyes grave and his expression steely. “My suspicions have proven right. We’ve been invaded—my office has been broken into.”

 

Leliana looked down at Velasco, a deeply amused expression on her face. “How _dreadful._ Herald, do you have anything to say about this?”

 

All eyes turned to her, and Velasco pursed her lips, hands hidden behind her back. They waited for her response, the room silent.

 

“I don't know,” she said, avoiding looking at anything in particular. The jar of jam sat menacingly on the table. “Sounds quite serious to me.”

 


End file.
